“You,” he said, “are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much [bittersweet] pain.” ~ Emilie Autumn
We create and use our gifts to follow our heart’s passion and joy. May we shed light on injustice and highlight the poetic nature of a faded leaf.
My eyes hear and my ears see with every flicker of sunlight through a grayish cloudy day. I am art in word, sculpture in wind and pottery created in a sunrise of the sea. The Sahara Desert fills my toes and the Gulf Stream filters through my eyelashes.
I’m not ‘normal’ and I don’t want to be.
I listen to the wind and find the song of the Milky Way; I sanction the elixir of life and death an inverse spin of transparency. I will find the quiet in decay and hope in the pause and love in the raised branches of trees.
I sigh and let go into the spaciousness of an ever evolving humanity. I rest in a cushion of safety knowing there’s so much more to learn; it’s an alchemy of what we were, transformed into what we are now.
It is the gift of being.